


How many days...

by lostinfictionalworlds



Series: How many days [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Musicproducer!Blaine, Romance, Valentines, backupsinger!Kurt, firstmeeting, klainevalentines2016, lovesongs, rom/com style, smluff, song prompt challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:04:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinfictionalworlds/pseuds/lostinfictionalworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 2016 Klaine Valentines daily song prompt challenge.</p><p>How many days does it take to fall in love? For Music Producer, Blaine Anderson it’s just another day at the office working on a valentines record for an international, top selling artist; with the idea of love as far from his mind as possible…that is until he meets lead backing vocalist, Kurt Hummel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1. Oh My Love

**Author's Note:**

> This story is not beta’d- I’m sorry in advance, and all chapters are of varying length. Rating may go up for future chapters.

**Day 1, Monday.**

**Song- Oh my love by John Lennon**

_How many days does it take to fall in love?_

 

“How many days does it take to fall in love?” Blaine says it again, out loud this time, quietly and carefully. “How many days does it take to fall in _love_?” He repeats, this time a little louder and slightly alters the tone and pitch of his voice, rephrasing it from a question to a statement and back again.

 

_What? None. Never. How stupid? What kind of question even is that?_

 

After rereading it in a variety of different ways and letting it tumble around in his head another handful of times, Blaine picks up his notes and swings around on his chair, waving them in the air erratically.

 

“Seriously? She’s going with this as her album title? Is she trying to give people nausea?” Blaine comments dryly.

 

Blaine’s head sound technician, Guy, looks up at Blaine with a bemused grin from where he’s busy playing with the sound board across the room and shrugs. “Hey what do we know, right? We’re just paid to _create her sound._ ”

 

They both chuckle at that and share a mutual look of exasperation before swinging back around to their desks and getting back to whatever they were doing.

 

Miss _Georgia_ _. H. Gold_ , America’s newest national sweetheart has certainly not been the easiest of clients they have worked with at _Anderson Records,_ but she’s definitely not the worst and most likely will not be the last fussy and irritating, big headed pop sensation that will cross their path.

 

Guy hits a button on his computer and a lovely, lilting cover of John Lennon’s _Oh my love_ fills the sound booth. Blaine smirks to himself while Guy plays around with the sound controls. He has an uncanny ability for just knowing what to do with the click of his cursor; it’s one of the many reasons Blaine loves working with him and being able to put their skills together.

 

Guy had started off as Blaine’s intern with the label and within four years had swiftly and boldly worked his way up to be Blaine’s right hand man. The two of them are quite inseparable these days and have a strong, professional working relationship, one which they can put their heads together and come up with some of the most ingenious ideas ever known to the music industry. The control room is like their playground and they’ve grown very well known and sought after by artists and musicians worldwide because of it.

 

Guy sways along to the music as he works and Blaine can’t help but grin a little and join in. Miss Gold has a pretty good voice and an incredible vocal range, they can’t deny that. Her ability to take old classics and lift them into something new but also keep the heart of the original embedded within it, is very commendable.

 

But she still doesn’t have to be a diva-bitch about it.  

 

At least they have the backing tracks and her vocals already down, only needing some slight edits and enhancements; meaning that they hopefully won’t ever have to work with her again. (If she decides on another album release, Blaine will politely decline; he has enough recognition and a long line of artists wanting to work with him to be able to do so.)

 

“So today on this fine Monday morning, we have the backing vocalists coming in to tie in some harmonies. Pour souls.” Blaine teases with a smile and Guy just snorts over his shoulder.

 

“Yeah, cause it’s obviously beneath her to share a recording booth with anybody who doesn’t wear _Louboutins._ ” Guy snipes, earning a hearty bark of laughter from Blaine behind him. 

 

A small light bulb hanging above the door to the main hallway starts flashing blue on and off; indicating that there is somebody waiting in the lobby area. “That’ll be them now, probably” Blaine says, stacking up his work and glancing up at the light. “Let’s get this over with then we’ll do a late lunch.”

 

“Sushi?” Guy suggests, standing to walk with Blaine over to the door.

 

“Oh, go on then,” Blaine sighs playfully and a little dramatically. “Only because I think I owe it to you. God knows who or should I say _what_ her god awful team has hired to sing backup for her.”

 

They head out the door and down the hall towards the waiting area, mumbling and giggling with each other just as Lynn, the receptionist from the front desk rounds the corner to meet them.

 

Apart from a few weekend volunteers and musician friends of Blaine’s who he’s met over the years, it’s just the three of them that work at the studio, and Blaine wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

The studio is small but homely, with dark wood furnishings and soft beige touches of color and accessory. Blaine has a small office adjacent to the studio which he spends a lot less time in then he really should, but music is his life, _his love_. He’d much rather be making music or even listening to it than pushing pencils. Besides, Lynn is more than happy to play the part of doting PA among other things and make sure all of the paper work is filed correctly and the appropriate emails have been sent to the correct places.

 

Music is all Blaine needs and all that he wants to do in this life. Music won’t nag at him or complain or tell him he needs to change who he is or what he does.  

 

To Blaine, he has achieved all that he has set out to do in his life. Yes he may be a lone ranger (except for Guy and Lynn) but he’s happy like that.

 

His team and the building they work in may be small but put them all together and their strengths are huge, and the reputation that they have built from that has made the label a household name over the years.

 

Blaine can’t ask or hope for anything else.    

 

“Are you ready for your morning client, Mr A?” Lynn asks with a smile, a clipboard pressed to her chest and a pen balanced behind her ear. As they talk, lyrics from the song that had just been playing in the control room, flows from around the corner, soft and melodious.

 

_“Oh my love for the first time in my life,_

_my mind is wide open…”_

“Someone’s been doing their homework,” Guy murmurs under his breath as he catches on to the sound and glances sideways to Blaine.

 

Blaine looks a little preoccupied, he stops in his tracks with his amber colored eyes wide open and his ears pricked like a dog’s. He seems fascinated with the words he can hear and the voice that is singing them so clearly and sincerely.

 

A high pitched, breathy but strong voice gives life and soul to each word sung. _This voice is even better than Georgia’s_ , Blaine thinks.

 

_“Oh my lover for the first time in my life,_

_my mind can feel…”_

 

It’s utterly captivating, and Blaine finds himself momentarily awestruck. He hasn’t even seen or met this person yet, but their voice is enough to enthral him and maybe, just even a _little bit_ , make him fall slightly, hopelessly in love. Just a bit.

 

It’s a feeling that’s frightening and new and…absurd.

 

But that’s always been the problem with Blaine. Music has always been his love first and foremost, and the lyrics that accompany the tune are the story, the making of the magic.

 

But this time, without even knowing or seeing his heart is being pulled on invisible strings, towards another heart; alive and beating and singing a song so lovely compelling.

 

It’s something that Blaine had vowed to himself he would never do.


	2. Day 2. That's Amore.

_“When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet,_

_You’re in love…”_

It’s your typical ball of cheese wrapped up in romance type of song that everybody hates to love but simply _cannot help_ but sing along to.

 

Blaine had frowned and grumbled under his breath during the original recording with Georgia, but still had to smile a little at her sweet take on the old crooner classic. The song may be cheesy as hell but is legendry in its own right, and as for Dean Martin? Well, Blaine would give all that he owns to go back in time and meet the man to shake his hand and thank him for his incredible contribution to music.

 

Now though, as Blaine sits behind his desk in the control room, with Guy doing his thing at the mixing console by his side, he _cannot_ get enough of the song. Or the person that’s currently singing it, or should he say singing _parts_ of it.

 

It almost five o’clock in the afternoon, they’ve been here almost all day, barely stopping for a break; plus the time they spent the day before, mixing and remixing, take after take.

 

Normally with back up vocals they would try and fly through as many tracks as they could in one day and then go back to do the cleaning up afterwards.

 

Yet, Blaine has found himself sitting here happily, replaying the track over and over and trying every little trick and skill that he can; some would call it showing off, he likes to call it _just working._  

 

Guy being has _Guy_ has offered him a few odd looks but has happily carried on as his boss has instructed and got on with his task at hand. Blaine just _can’t_ tear his eyes away from the clear glass window in front of him; he can’t bear to end this session so soon. Saying goodbye yesterday was somehow hard enough. _Weird._

 

Blaine is usually so focused and switched on during his work, but it seems like Guy has been doing most of the work for the two of them during this particular recording stint. Not that Guy has any problem with that, he’s very capable in doing so and Blaine trusts him explicitly.

 

But, Blaine just doesn’t like not feeling 100% himself. He feels like he can’t even trust his own brain to make the right decisions.

 

And it all appears to be because of the beauty of the man currently standing in the middle of his recording booth. And the beauty of his _voice._

 

The isolation booth is small and only lit by a few dim wall sconces emitting a warm cascading light, accompanied by the faint glow of the emergency exit sign above the door. The room is purposely created that way to give off a calm, quiet but careful darkness for the artist to concentrate and lose themselves in while recording; there is a dimmer switch if ever bright light is a necessity.

 

The room may be a little dark but Blaine can see perfectly well when two blue eyes shot through with shards of glassy green blink back at him from behind the glass.

 

Blaine is a professional. In every sense of the word, he always has been and always will be. But it’s not beneath him to succumb to the under surface-lingering attraction of a good looking man. No matter Blaine’s thoughts about love and relationships, his body will always disagree with his brain.

 

The man who has been singing his way right into Blaine’s very soul ever since yesterday morning is tall and slender, with pale creamy skin and eyes that seem to change color every time he blinks and turns a different direction. His hair is chestnut brown, rich and thick yet looks soft to the touch; currently flattened by the pair of oversized headphones he’s wearing, but he still looks amazing.

 

His voice is to _die_ for, a counter tenor at its very best; so controlled and lulling but with extreme power behind those notes. Blaine doesn’t think he’s heard or possibly seen, _met_ anybody like him before.

 

He’s exquisite.

 

_Kurt Hummel is 28 years old (just 3 years younger than myself) and lives in Manhattan (actually just a few blocks over from the studio...also not far from my apartment.) He studied at Juilliard and graduated with a bachelor degree of music and voice. (Wow!) He’s been a backing vocalist for the last 6 years and although he strives to accomplish more in his career he thoroughly loves what he does. He has had small off-Broadway roles and his voice has featured as backing accompaniment on many advertisements, live performances and records including some of music’s biggest names. Music and singing is his passion and—_

 

“Blaine? Blaine—”

 

Blaine snaps back to life, his attention is pulled from his computer screen where he has Kurt’s online resume up and open; and over to where Guy is staring expectantly at him.

 

“Huh?” He glances between Guy and Kurt on the other side of the glass, all while he subtly tries to close down the tab on his screen. He runs a hand through his hair, now a somehow neat and tidy _mess_ of dark curls, broken free from the little bit of product he had tried to tame it with that morning when getting dressed.

 

It’s taken him almost thirty years but Blaine has finally grown to actually like the curls he was cursed with since birth, and now with a frequent, neat trim he only uses a little bit of hair product to tame the morning frizz.  

 

When Blaine chances a glance back up and his eyes catch with Kurt’s, Kurt’s eyes are dancing playfully, watching him. He has his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, and there’s a small grin forming around them. He’s such a lovely sight.

 

“Um,” Guy clears his throat and tries not to laugh at the ‘deer caught in headlights’ look on Blaine’s face. “We’re uh- I think we’re all done here for today, if you agree? We could get Kurt back here tomorrow if you—”

 

“Yes!” Blaine almost yells and then blushes furiously. “I mean, yes I think that we should take as much time as we need to get this sounding perfect. For Miss Gold, of course.” He adds nonchalantly.

 

“Of course.” Guy parrots back to him, trying to cover up a knowing grin but failing miserably.  

 

Blaine gives Guy a helpless look that he hopes will translate as “give me a break?!” then turns his attention to Kurt.

 

“Would that be ok with you, Kurt? Are you free all this week? Miss Gold has booked the studio out for this purpose, after all?” He asks with his eyes sweeping upwards while trying to keep his voice even as he leans in to speak into the little microphone on his desk that allows Kurt to hear through his headphones.

 

He doesn’t know why or what it is but something is urging him to get _this_ right. What exactly _this_ is, he doesn’t know yet, but he has always been a man to follow his instincts. They’ve never let him down so far.

 

“Yes of course,” Kurt answers, his voice so soft and clear. He nods and smiles, a bright toothy smile that Blaine feels somehow oddly blessed to even witness. “It’s in my schedule that I’d be recording all this week for Miss Gold. So yeah, whatever you need.”

 

“Great.” Blaine smiles back, unmoving, almost entranced. “That’s…great.” It’s like he’s been awoken from a lifelong sleep. Everything is clearer, louder.

 

_“When you walk in a dream,_

_But you know you're not dreaming senior…”_


	3. Day 3. Wednesday. Make You Feel My Love

Blaine hasn’t really spoken to Kurt all that much in the past three days that they’ve met and been working together. Of course there’s been the generic “Good morning, how are you? Sleep well?” Or the typical “Geez, this weather, huh?” and not forgetting “Goodbye, Kurt, and thanks for another day full of hard work. Enjoy your evening whatever you’re up to. See you in the morning.”

 

Kurt always smiles that beautiful smile of his and answers graciously but it never amounts to anything more than that.

 

For being a business owner, a music manager, a producer, a composer, a songwriter and musician; as well being raised with good manners and etiquette; you really would think that Blaine would have more to say to Kurt, and the confidence to do so.

 

But he just _can’t_ bring himself to quite get that far.

 

It’s just hit two in the afternoon and after Guy had complained enough that his stomach was shrinking, they decide to pause for lunch. To be honest, Blaine could do with the break, though he won’t admit it; Kurt and his voice have been haunting him _all_ morning.

 

The song that they’ve been working on is probably one of Blaine’s favorite’s on Georgia’s valentine’s album. It’s so raw and open, honest and truthful. He believes it to be a song that really shows why music was created to help communicate feelings. It’s painfully wonderful. A lovely, old classic already rereleased twice, maybe three times over the years, but again Georgia has managed to add her own spark to it and light it up.

 

And then there’s Kurt’s. Blaine has been rendered speechless most of the day because of him and how he is portraying this song. He’s barely been able to keep his jaw from touching his shoes while watching Kurt sing that song and express those words. Even the “oohs” and the “aahs” he’s been adding have been enough to make Blaine feel it all the way down to his toes.  

 

When Kurt sings he doesn’t just sing. He _sings._ He performs with his whole body and soul. He feels the music, takes it all in and pushes it all back out again onto the listener; all full of raw emotion and pure beauty of voice and song and sound.

 

_“The storms are raging on the rolling sea, and on the highway of regret._

_The winds of change are blowing wild and free—”_

Kurt is the _only_ backing vocalist that Georgia has hired. It’s a little odd but not completely unheard of. Blaine had originally thought that somebody like Miss Gold would have hired a full choir to back her up, but he has to admit that he quite enjoys being proven wrong from time to time. Miss Gold is starting to surprise him just as much as Blaine is surprising himself, with his feelings and thoughts and _Kurt_ and such.

 

Blaine can’t say that he doesn’t entirely know why she’s chosen Kurt, and only Kurt to back her up. His vocal ability is amazing, intense and powerful and completely unique. His voice alone strengthens Georgia’s to a huge degree, and the two of them along with an accompanying echo and a wide range of musical instruments have achieved quite a memorable sound.

 

When Blaine finally calls time for lunch, Guy is up and off from his seat almost immediately, probably heading to his favourite deli around the corner. Lynn always goes home on her lunch breaks to let her dog out on the sidewalk to relieve himself.

 

This leaves Kurt and Blaine alone, conveniently. Blaine looks up from his computer, compelled to do so by the quiet sounds of shuffling and rustling. He sits frozen at his desk behind the glass window as he watches Kurt perch on a stool; take out a small plastic salad box and fork from his satchel and start nibbling at it daintily.

 

Every movement he makes, everything little thing he does seems to cast Blaine under some weird enchanted spell.

 

_“—You ain't seen nothing like me yet.”_

 

Kurt stops his fork halfway to his mouth when he sees Blaine watching him. His cheeks flush with a light dusting of pink and he gives Blaine a half hearted, closed lipped smile, and a look that says “what?”

 

Blaine snaps into action. He stands from his chair and points his thumb over his shoulder towards the door, making sure he’s still leaning down enough to be heard through the little desk microphone.

 

“Um, I’m going to head out down the block and get a pizza slice or something. You want- um would you like anything?”

 

Kurt throws his little plastic fork down into the salad box so quickly that it’s almost comical. “You won’t tell my personal trainer, right?” He says with a cheeky grin as he stands and hoists his satchel over his shoulder.

 

_Personal Trainer? He’s already a demigod. What does he need a personal trainer for?_

Blaine thankfully keeps his thoughts to himself and opens the door which links the control room to the isolation booth. He holds it open with one hand while Kurt walks through with a shy little smile and nod of his head in thanks.

 

Blaine winks at him and then when Kurt has his back to him, he calls himself an asshole for doing such a thing.

 

_“Go to the ends of the Earth for you—”_

_Keep it together, Blaine._

*

 

Blaine locks the doors to the studio building, pockets his keys and then turns to Kurt who is leaning up against the wall of the building. “Shall we?” He asks with a hand directed towards the sidewalk and a charming smile on his lips.

 

Kurt offers a smile of his own, peels himself off of the wall, his body bending and flowing like a cat’s and walks in step with Blaine.

 

Being the Third of February in New York City, it’s not exactly the warmest of days; but it could be a lot colder. Blaine always relies on his trusty old chocolate brown, worn leather jacket with a faux fur in-lining, to keep him warm. His typical everyday dress is casual yet professional, usually a pair of fitted jeans with a shirt and blazer over the top to complete his look. He’s a good looking man, and he dresses well. He’s not a shallow person but it’s not beneath him to excel in his confidence, and to notice the looks of appreciation he gets from both men and women as he walks down the street.

 

Kurt, however seems to be some kind of fashion/style magnet all on his own. There is an air of full blown self assuredness around him, yet he still carries a hint on shyness. Today, he’s wearing a navy pea coat over his white button down shirt and silk lined vest ensemble, accompanied with a plaid scarf and suede gloves. His dark skinny jeans are covered up to his knees with black lace up boots that look a little weathered but stylish all the same.

 

Blaine has only known Kurt for a small part of three days, but he can’t quite seem to understand why or how he isn’t a model or leading role of some kind. Kurt should not just be a back up _anything_ with those looks and that voice. And that body.

 

 _Martino’s_ is Blaine’s go to pizzeria and they know him well and expect him daily. The staff are aware of his busy lifestyle and work schedule, and no matter the queue of people waiting to get served, they always come to Blaine as soon as he walks through the door.

 

“Mr Blaine! The usual? One slice or two?” Ramondo, the manager calls over the counter.

 

Blaine smiles and looks over his shoulder to Kurt, “Anything you don’t like? My treat.”

 

“Anchovies,” Kurt replies and makes a disgusted face, to which Blaine responds with a grin and a “me too” face.

 

They take a leisurely stroll back towards the studio, a large pizza slice swabbed in napkins in one hand and a can of soda in the other.  

 

“This is good. Thank you.” Kurt mumbles after taking a large bite and pats at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

 

“Mmm, yup.” Blaine responds, his mouth and cheeks just as full. Kurt just smiles and looks down to his feet as they carry on walking.

 

They place their trash into a can right by the studio’s front doors and Blaine unlocks the doors, lets them in and gestures towards one of the leather couches in the lobby. Guy and Lynne aren’t back yet and they’ve only had around 20 minutes of their break so far.

 

Kurt makes himself comfortable in one corner of the couch while Blaine flicks on some lights and leans over the reception desk to check the messages on the answering machine. The light flickers with many notifications but when he glances back over his shoulder to find Kurt blatantly staring at his ass while biting his lip; Blaine abandons the unanswered messages in favour of leaning over the desk a little bit more to look for something that isn’t actually there, with a satisfied thrum in his veins.

 

Blaine boxes and runs when he has the chance to. His body is small, tight and compact and round in _all_ the best places. He knows gets _looked_ at. But with Kurt, it feels different. _Better._

 

Eventually he straightens up and turns around to lean against the desk, feigning a look of harried business. Kurt averts his gaze then looks back at him and smiles some. The silence is a little awkward but not entirely uncomfortable.

 

“It’s a great set up, you have here.” Kurt eventually says. “I’d heard a lot about your label and the studio. I’m glad and honestly honoured to have had the chance to record here.”

 

Blaine blushes in way that he has never blushed before. He’s not too much of a proud man, he can take compliments. He knows how well he has succeeded in the business world and he’s entitled to take the praise for it, lord knows he’s worked hard enough for it. But with Kurt, hearing those things makes him feel a little giddy inside.

 

“Oh, thank you. How nice of you to say.” Blaine smiles and slowly pushes himself off of the desk and walks over to the couch, sitting down at the opposite end of where Kurt is sitting. “It’s wonderful to have an artist like you here.”

 

Kurt does one of his lip-bite-smile things and ducks his head, shaking it a little in silent protest.

 

“No really. I mean it.” Blaine says sincerely and boldly leans over and touches his hand to Kurt’s knee, a way to get him to look up. “It’s one of the things I love most about my job, seeking out new talents. Or in this case, like yourself, a mature but wonderful talent that just hasn’t had the recognition it deserves, yet.”

 

Kurt looks up at Blaine then, his eyes a blazing blue seem to pierce right through Blaine’s own deep, unwavering gaze. Even Blaine’s skin tingles with it.

 

Kurt opens his mouth, and so does Blaine. Both looking like there’s more to say—

 

_“I know you haven't made your mind up yet,_

_But I will never do you wrong.”_

 

The door swings open wide and Guy steps inside with one large sandwich in each hand. “We ready to get back to work?” He smiles, looking between the two of them. “I brought us cookies for a sugar fix too.” He adds, nodding down to a brown paper bag wedged under his arm.

 

Kurt hops up from the couch with a too sure head nod and strides around the corner toward the hallway leading to the recording room.

 

“Wonderful.” Blaine says, staring at Guy.  

 

  _“I could make you happy, make your dreams come true…”_


	4. Day 4. Thursday. P.S I love you by The Beatles

**Day 4. Thursday**

**Song- P.S I Love You by The Beatles**

“What’s going on with you man?” Guy asks. His tone is kind but firm; something he’s picked up from Blaine over the years.

 

It’s just after eight at night, Lynne had gone home hours ago and Kurt had finished recording for the day around the same time. Guy had contained an eye roll watching Blaine moon after him through the recording room’s door.

 

It’s just Guy and Blaine alone in the studio now, with the sample track of today’s work filling the air around them. Kurt’s voice is beautiful and a little haunting as it plays on loop, flowing around the small room like some kind of mantra.

 

_“Treasure these few words till we're together—”_

 

“Are you actually going to add _the main artist_ to the track or…” Guy had joked, earning an elbow nudge and a scoff from Blaine.

 

When Blaine finally did mix Kurt’s and Georgia’s tracks together for the final piece, it was still Kurt’s parts that he was hung up on and absorbed by; even just small and infrequent as they were.

 

_“As I write this letter (Oh)_

_Send my love to you (You know I want you to)_

_Remember that I'll always (Yeah)_

_Be in love with you.”_

 

Blaine decided he was going to stay a little longer today to add some finishing touches, and it was clear that he wasn’t willing to elaborate on that any more after a few questioning looks from Guy. Blaine loves his job and his studio but even he likes to get home at the end of a long day, even if it is just to go back into his home built-in studio or to sit at the bench of his baby grand piano.

 

But, at normal quitting time, Blaine simply swung his chair around to face his desk and carried on scribbling down notes and browsing computer files with a far-off, almost lost expression on his face.

 

Guy had then grabbed his coat and disappeared, only to return fifteen minutes later with a large bag of Chinese takeout and an obvious need to get Blaine to open up.

 

“Dude, what’s up?” Guy tries again, this time pointing a chopstick in Blaine’s direction, a tiny piece of noodle dangling and threatening to fall on to the hardwood floor. 

 

Blaine looks up at him and smirks. Guy’s chair is reclined back, his sneakers are discarded somewhere on the floor and his socked feet are propped up, ankles crossed against the sound board.

 

“Get your sweaty feet off my equipment,” Blaine shouts playfully and throws a balled up paper napkin in Guy’s direction. “That’s what up with me.”

 

Guy sits up straight and puts his food carton down on the desk. “Seriously, you’re not yourself at the moment. Talk it out with me, c’mon, man.”

 

Blaine regards Guy carefully. They’re friends, they’re very close but they’ve never really discussed anything personal with each other. They’ve never really had to, especially something like what’s going on in Blaine’s mind at the moment. Guy is a few years younger than Blaine but he’s mature and they happen to share the same interests and similar opinions.

 

They stare at each other for an almost awkward beat of silence before Guys sighs dramatically. “Look, obviously its not affecting your music making. That’s as great as always…maybe a little too great. I’d say you’ve found your muse—”

 

Blaine grins oddly, shrugs, shakes his head and runs a hand through his already manic hair before finally settling back into his chair and picks up his bottle of water. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m…fine—”

 

“Yeah, right.” Guy huffs out a laugh before he shovels another chopstick loaded with noodles into his mouth.

 

“What do you want me to say?” Blaine laughs, one hand held up in the air and the other clenching tightly around his water bottle. He wishes it were a beer right now.

 

“That you’ve got it bad.”

 

“…In relation to?”

 

Guy rolls his eyes so hard it looks like it could hurt. “Kurt. You like him. You like him _a lot_.”

 

_“Remember that I'll always,_

_be in love with you.”_

Even though nobody has touched the mixing console for the past ten minutes it feels like the music is getting louder. Kurt’s voice and his words are circling around Blaine’s mind like some kind of a challenge.

 

Blaine stares at Guy, open mouthed. “It’s- I do not—”

 

“Don’t even try to deny it. I’d say ask him out, but you and I both _know_ that you’re not going to do that or anything about it at all, for that matter. So now your heart and your head are both in a tangle of stress and emotions and it’s got you all up in a tizzy.”

  

Blaine doesn’t even bother trying to reply with something witty or sarcastic. Guy is right. Of course he is.

 

They go back to a short silence of eating and drinking, with Kurt’s voice singing around them like the blatant pink elephant in the room that it in fact _is_.

 

“What- what do I do?” Blaine asks after some time. His voice is low and quiet and his eyes are downcast but he’s facing towards Guy. His body is curled in on himself with one leg tucked up close to his chest on the chair. His takeout is left discarded on the desk, barely nibbled at. 

 

Guy smiles. “At least admit that’s that what it is that’s up with you, and you should start to feel better just for getting it out there in the open.”

 

“What’s the point?” Blaine sighs, “admit it to who? You or him?”

His eyes are narrowed on Guy with a small downtrodden smile.

 

Guy puts down his carton and stands, he takes the few small steps it takes to cross the room and once he’s beside Blaine he kneels down and pats him lightly on the knee. “Yourself.” He whispers. “That’s the first and most important part. Admitting your feelings to yourself.”

 

Blaine’s eyes grow comically large but he still does nothing but sit silently and blink back at Guy.

 

“Look, you don’t _have_ to do anything.” Guy gives Blaine’s knee a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve admitted that you like somebody- that you like, _Kurt_. Not in so many words exactly. But you have, _finally._ And that’s enough. Now you wait for the right moment. Wait for it to feel right.”

 

Blaine’s breath rushes out of him as he nods short and weak. He looks almost pained. “But- what- what if it already does…feel right?” His voice is barely there, nothing more than a rasped whisper.

 

“Then you act on it. Love may wait for you, but Kurt may not.” Guy smiles a little ruefully but gives Blaine’s leg a hearty pat.

 

 _…But I don’t see them as two separate things,_ Blaine thinks but won’t dare say. He drops his gaze from Guy down to the floor.

 

“Tomorrow is our last day of recording with Kurt.” Guy adds quietly. “At least let him know _something_ that’s going on up there. It may be your last chance.” Guy grins as he taps at Blaine’s skull playfully and then pokes him in the chest before he rises to his feet again, leaving Blaine to mull over his thoughts.

 

_“P.S. I love you.”_


	5. Day 5. Friday. I just called to say I love you.

**Day 5, Friday.**

**Song- I Just Called To Say I Love You by Stevie Wonder**

Guy has plans after work today to kick start his weekend, so Blaine lets him clock out at just a little before four-thirty. Blaine knows that Guy works hard and long enough to deserve an early finish on a Friday, and guy knows that Blaine is a decent enough boss and friend to agree with whatever he asks. They usually take turns to run the place over the weekend if the schedule isn’t looking too busy and always end up doing each other a favor somewhere down the line.

 

If the truth be told, if there are no more bookings in the studio diary then Blaine likes to clock out a littler early himself. His usual Friday plans would be to pick up some food on his way home then spend the rest of the night with a couple glasses of whiskey and the music history channel.

 

But now, honestly? He’s a little glad of Guy’s early getaway. He’s opting to stay for a short while to give him time to think, to talk, to maybe—

 

“Hey, um Blaine? I-I can call you that, right?”

 

Blaine startles a little before he’s able to paste a charming smile on his face to replace his expression of bewilderment. His heart thumps from inside out and he has to will his cheeks to cool.

 

Kurt is sitting on Blaine’s left hand side, on a rollaway stool pulled up to Blaine’s desk. His final recording session ended a half hour ago but rather than pack up and leave and watch Kurt leave _for good_ , Blaine had invited him to stay for the afternoon; to come and take a peek behind the scenes in the mixing room and get a glimpse of what the final record would sound like.

 

It’s a _start._ It’s a _chance._

 

And Kurt had barely hesitated before saying yes with a pretty blush on his strong, high cheekbones and a warm, wide smile. That had given Blaine encouragement all in its self. 

 

“Of course you can call me that. I’m not _your_ boss and even if I was I’d ask you to call me Blaine. I like to drop formalities.” He smiles shyly, turning to Kurt as he speaks.

 

Kurt blushes faintly. “I’ve heard your receptionist call you Mr A.”

 

“Yeah, well that’s Lynne. She’s been doing that since the day I met her.” Blaine chuckles.

 

Kurt giggles a bit with him. “Um, well I guess I just wanted to say thank you. You know for all of this, this is really cool.” Kurt begins, gesturing around the screen and the sound boxes with all of the nodules and buttons and whatnots; his eyes darting from Blaine to the ground and back up again. He even ducks his tongue out to lick over his lips a couple of times, maybe a self conscious habit; and Blaine has to resist biting his own lip.

 

“You’ve been really forthcoming in a way I didn’t really expect, in a way that nobody has been before with me.” For a moment, Blaine’s heart aches a little for Kurt. _Why? Why has he not been given the treatment he deserves?_

 

“It’s been such a wonderful experience being here, and I’ll take away a lot from it. Everything that I _can_. So, again, thank you for sharing all of your time and expertise with me. I hope Miss Gold is just as pleased with the results of the record as I am.” Kurt finishes with a bright beaming smile and a piercing look into Blaine’s eyes.

 

Blaine melts a little on the spot. Kurt sounds so sincere, so reverent. He’s never heard or felt gratitude quite like this before. Blaine feels his mouth go dry. He sucks in a quick breath and tries to push it back out steadily. This is his moment. It must have taken a lot for Kurt to say all of that, if he can be bold then so can Blaine.

 

“Kurt, uh—” Blaine blinks his eyes closed, swallows, opens, looks up. “You know that um- you can swing by the studio anytime you want to.” He inhales another quick breath, not long enough to stop talking, just enough to keep going. “Or you know, if you need any advice or anything, I’ll always be available for you- I mean the studio. _The studio_ will always be open to you.”

 

He doesn’t really know exactly what he’s asking or what he’s hoping to happen in return. He just knows he has to say something, for Kurt to know that Blaine doesn’t want this to be the last time they see each other.      

When he finally stops talking enough breathe and to look at Kurt, like _really_ look at him, he notices that Kurt is also taking short frequent breaths and equally looks like he is also going to jump out of his skin. His eyes are shining happily, awash with blues and greens.

 

“Oh, yes. Um, I mean yes, thank you that would be great. I have so many questions—”

 

Kurt seems so happy, so excited that Blaine can’t stop the words that are bubbling up his chest and his throat, from deep down. He doesn’t even know where they’re coming from or what they mean. “What are your plans this evening?” He asks on a rush of air.

 

That takes Kurt aback. His eyes blink once and then twice, startled. And then his cheeks fill with color and his smile meets his eyes. Shaking his head slowly, he answers quietly. “I have none.”

 

Blaine’s happy grin creeps up on him out of nowhere. “Do- would you like to go somewhere after here? Maybe a quiet bar, where we can talk more and you can ask me any of those questions you have?”

 

Kurt doesn’t have to answer, his shy smile and the delicate tip of his head is enough.

 

When realization sticks of what Blaine has just done, his heart beats faster but he doesn’t panic like he thought he would. This is just talking, this is just friends. It’s cool, good.

 

It’s a _start._

 

*

 

The bar is one of Blaine’s local favorite’s in the vicinity of the studio. He and Guy and even Lynn from time to time have enjoyed a drink or two here after a particular great or desperately awful day. It’s quite a small place with low ceilings and minimal lighting but its cosy.

 

There is a juke box in the corner which appears to be typically fond of the eighty’s era, and is currently filling the room with some soft, jazzy pop.

 

Blaine sits Kurt down at a table at the back of the room and waves at the server behind the bar before sitting down opposite him. “You like beer right?” He asks Kurt, a sudden look of doubt on his face.

 

This is something that Blaine just does not do. He doesn’t know what to do or how to even begin to go about it. _Calm down, Blaine. It’s just drinks._

 

“Beer is…fine.” Kurt answers with a grin. “Maybe I’ll order a glass of merlot and have a red wine chaser.” He then adds with a wink.

 

“What an excellent idea. I’ll join you.” Blaine grins right back and makes another hand signal in the air towards the bar. “After all, they do say ‘a beer after wine and you’ll be fine”.” He grins.

 

“Let’s put it to the test.”

 

When their drinks arrive Kurt takes a small sip from his wine glass and then picks up his beer and tips the bottle to his lips before glancing at Blaine and then tipping the bottle in his direction instead. “Cheers” he calls brightly. “To a successful week of recording and making music and—”

 

“Making friends?” Blaine suggests, if not a little coyly. His cheeks are circled with color and his bashful grin is hidden behind the rim of his beer bottle. His eyes are shining with a secret kind of hope.

 

“I’ll drink to that.” Kurt says, tapping his bottle against Blaine’s. They both take a large gulp then switch to their wine glasses.

 

“So,” Blaine says quietly, searching Kurt’s face while trying not to let the silence linger for too long. “Miss Georgia. H. Gold. Your real thoughts?” His grin is wolfish; his hazel eyes alight with amber embers.

 

Kurt almost spits out his wine and hides his chuckle behind his hand, but his eyes are sparkling with mirth, happiness, sincerity and all of the truths that Blaine will ever need to know.

 

*

 

Another round of drinks later and they’re still laughing. They’ve swapped and shared a number of stories and jokes, enough to keep them laughing until morning.

 

Blaine can’t remember the last time he smiled so much. He doesn’t want to stop. He feels relaxed and light, he’s having fun and he’s not even thinking too much, he’s just _doing_ it.

 

This is nice and easy, it’s not work. It’s socializing. It’s actually _fun._

 

Kurt’s wine glass is now empty, and Blaine watches him pick up his beer bottle, drink the last few drops then put the bottle back down with a sorrowful sigh. His eyes meet Blaine’s and it’s too obvious what they’re both thinking.

 

What they’re _wanting_ to say but for some reason won’t.

 

The juke box is still supplying some the finest, love ballads that the eighty’s have to offer and as the small silence between them seems to grow longer and louder; another song starts off and kicks in.

 

_“—In fact here's just another ordinary day.”_

 

Kurt starts to smile a little and sway to the beat of the song. When he catches Blaine watching him with his own smile, he blushes and shifts on his seat.

 

“I um- gosh it must be getting late.” Kurt murmurs. “I should go- I mean you’ll have to get up early, right? I can imagine Saturday’s being busy recording days.” He says softly, and a little slower. He shifts a little more on his seat and bends down to pick up his satchel from the floor, his movements are a little too careful. It’s almost like he’s stalling.

 

Normally Kurt would be right. Saturday is the day that _everybody_ wants to be booked in to the studio and take up all of Blaine’s time. However today, as if by some magic stroke of luck, there isn’t actually a great deal booked into the diary; just the normal volunteer and work experience kids who like to spend their weekends mixing and jamming.

 

Guy will be around for a few hours to help them.

 

 _“I just called—”_  
  
Blaine scratches idly at the back of his neck. “I’ll have to go and open up, yes. We open at ten on Saturday’s but I’ll be done by around four at the latest. Guy will come in and take over once his hangover has subsided.” Kurt snorts out an adorable little laugh and Blaine lights up at the sound of it.

He hates that this is ending. He needs to do something, _say_ something. “I feel awful that I never got around to answering any of those questions you had. Um, would- would you be around tomorrow to drop by the studio? It will be fairly quiet. I mean- only if you want to?” He asks, trying to keep the obvious hint of hope out of his voice.

 

 _“And I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”_  
  
Kurt’s whole body posture visibly changes, he sits up straighter, perkier and more alert. His eyes wide and shining with the same kind of light Blaine’s own had held.

 

Though, only a moment later Kurt deflates again, his bright eyes dulling with lost chances and his lips curling downwards. “Oh… I have a thing- somewhere I need to be tomorrow.”

 

“Of course. I understand.” Blaine couldn’t sound or look any more disappointed if he tried.

 

“But…I’ll be free around six?”

 

Blaine gasps. It’s the only breath he manages to take before he lets his mind and mouth take control. He needs time to talk to Kurt, to sit down with him and learn and know more, _everything_ about him. He _can’t_ wait, he doesn’t want to.

 

“Dinner?”

 

There’s not even a gap of time or air. “It’s a…date.”

 

_“To fill your heart like no three words could ever do.”_


	6. Day 6. Mirrors.

Blaine waits for Kurt outside of the studio entrance at a little after seven-thirty. After exchanging numbers the night before when leaving the bar, they’d agreed on a time and an easy meeting place for them both.

 

Blaine knows this area well, and the area and the people that work here know _him_ well too. Perks of the job Blaine supposes, but at least he’s been able to reserve them a table tonight on such short notice at a pretty upscale, popular place.  

 

He’s nervous, but not as much as he thought he would be. He would say he’s actually more _excited._

Even when Kurt arrives, impeccably dressed and approaches Blaine from the left with a broad smile on his face; Blaine still doesn’t get as nervous as he thinks he should be.

 

There are no expectations. This could either work or won’t. Simple. It doesn’t have to be a date or doesn’t _not_ have to be. They can talk; they can laugh, eat and drink, or do nothing at all. What’s important is that Blaine is there, with somebody who he admits he cares for and wants to spend time with. 

 

Blaine starts walking towards Kurt with his own happy smile plastered across his face and when they meet in the middle and stand just a breath away from each other; Blaine raises his arm toward the direction of the restaurant. “Good evening. Shall we?”

 

Kurt nods; words seemingly lost on him, smiles and loops his arm under Blaine’s, and together they walk downs the block towards the restaurant just few blocks over.

 

Walking towards hopefully something _more._

For an early February evening the weather is oddly mild with just a slight nip in the air. Blaine enjoys glancing across to Kurt’s face while they walk; when he doesn’t think he’ll get caught, and see the glimmer of his crystal blue eyes under the streetlamps.

 

As they approach the street of the restaurant, they hear music and when Blaine looks up ahead he can see a busker standing just a few feet from the restaurant’s entrance. He’s young looking with long, fair hair and a guitar in his hands while he bops his head and taps his foot.

 

The song he’s singing, Blaine recognise immediately, it’s not too old of a song and was very popular when it was released. The kid’s doing a good job of it, breaking it down into a lovely acoustic ballad and the lyrics seem to stick with Blaine every step closer they get.

 

_“—Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul_

_I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go.”_

“—I’m starving. I can’t wait to get in there.” Kurt is saying when Blaine zones back in and realizes that Kurt is talking to him.

 

“Yeah. It’s awesome in here, I’m sure you’ll love it.” Blaine says, turning his attention back to Kurt and trying to tune out the nearing music.

 

“I’m sure I will. Thank you.”

 

Blaine has to be careful not to stare every time he looks at Kurt tonight. He hasn’t even taken off his coat or unwrapped his scarf yet and Blaine is still entranced with his sense of style and how handsome he is, even with a slight breeze flapping though his hair.

_“Aren't you somethin', an original,_

_Cause it doesn't seem merely assembled._

_And I can't help but stare, 'cause_

_I see truth somewhere in your eyes.”_

Kurt goes quiet, almost reflective. He glances upwards towards the street musician, smiles, hums along a bit and then looks back down at Blaine. There is a small height difference between them, with Kurt being just a few inches taller. Blaine feels something oddly warm and wonderful when ever Kurt lowers his chin to look directly into Blaine’s eyes. He feels _safe,_ like he’s been found and also found what he didn’t know he’s been looking for. His missing puzzle piece.

 

_“Cause I don't wanna lose you now,_

_I'm lookin' right at the other half of me._

_The vacancy that sat in my heart_

_,Is a space that now you hold.”_

They get to the doors of the restaurant and Blaine nods in greeting at the doorman as he holds it open for them.

 

The busker has moved on to the last portion of the song, the part that’s not typically heard on the radio edit.

 

Blaine stands back and lets Kurt walk through the door first. His eyes linger on the movement of his back muscles through his coat and the firm shape of his ass.

 

He hesitates as his ears pick up the lyrics of the song, and he looks back at the young unknowing kid, one more time before following after Kurt.

 

Following after something _more._

 

_“Now you're the inspiration of this precious song_

_And I just wanna see your face light up since you put me on_

_So now I say goodbye to the old me, it's already gone.”_


	7. Day 7. Sunday. Just the way you are.

**Day 7. Sunday.**

**Song- Just the way you are by Bruno Mars**

Central park is always busy on Sundays. Jammed packed with everybody doing anything you could possibly think of; especially when it’s not raining. The morning is a little frosty but dry and the sun is warming everything up with each passing hour.

 

Blaine loves to take his morning run through the park, changing up his route everyday. Today he’s heading towards conservatory water, his ear buds in, his feet hitting the ground and a huge, unmoveable grin on his face. He doesn’t care how crazy he may look.

 

Last night was one of the best nights of his life to date. And that’s saying something. It was just dinner. But not with just anybody. It was dinner with _Kurt._

They talked, learned more about each other. Kurt asked his questions and Blaine gave his answers. They had fun. They had a nice time.

 

Only, it was so much more that that. It could never be _just_ anything, no matter what they choose to call it.

 

What matters was the sweet taste of the wine that accompanied the delicious meal they ate. It was the candle light flickering between them, illuminating the blush of cheeks and glimmer of eyes. It was the accidental, tender brush of fingertips while reaching across the table for the wine bottle. It was the continuous laughter, intriguing conversation and the intimacy of sharing desert.

 

It was the shared cab ride home, knees brushing. It was the warm kiss on the cheek and the squeeze of a hand; followed by an all night string of text messages sent back and forwards to each other.

 

This morning Blaine had almost leaped out of bed, feeling like he’d slept for a hundred years. His coffee tasted nicer, his shower seemed warmer. His paper boy actually posted his morning paper through his letterbox rather than fling it at the door.

 

And with his mind in an endless, happy daze of thoughts from the night before; who else better to almost run straight bang into, than Kurt himself?

 

Flustered, Blaine removes his ear buds and fumbles in his pocket to switch off his iPod. He runs a hand through his sweat-curled hair and then rubs it against his shorts.

“Kurt! Hi! I was- I was just thinking about you, actually- about last night. I was going to call you.”

 

He’s not lying. He was planning on texting or calling Kurt after he gets home and takes a second shower. Even just to say “hello” or “how are you?” Now, he doesn’t need to.

 

It’s strange, Blaine thinks because if this had have been an impromptu meeting with a client or an old friend, Blaine is sure he would feel embarrassed or self-conscious. He’d want to feel and look his best. He’d want to be ‘Blaine Anderson’ of Anderson Records.

 

But right now with Kurt, he doesn’t care about any of that. He’s just happy to see him, to be _with_ him. He just wants to be _Blaine_ ; the Blaine who Kurt likes and who Kurt wants. Hopefully. 

 

Kurt looks equally as flustered with his soft hair swept back behind some kind of head band. His pale skin is glistening with a light sheen of moisture, and his cheeks are a lovely shade of rose. He’s wearing a long sleeved sweatshirt, yoga pants which cling to his legs unfairly wonderfully and a pair of sneakers.

 

“Oh my god. Hi, Blaine. Do you work out here too? I’m just doing my power walk circuit.”

 

Blaine doesn’t care how sweaty he or Kurt may be; he wants to reach out and pull him into his arms. Hell, he could even kiss him. He’s worried that he might just do that.

 

Thankfully, he manages to restrain himself and rubs a hand over his neck while taking some calming breaths to bring his heart rate down. “Yeah, uh what a small world, huh?”

 

Kurt nods, ducks his head and then blinks back up, a shadow of a shy smile hiding at the corner of his pursed lips.

 

“You- you were really thinking of me- of last night?” His blush deepens, and his grin breaks out, almost a little seductively. Before Blaine can answer, Kurt takes a small, tentative step forward and adds, “me too.”

 

They starting walking together, in what direction? They don’t care. Just a happy slow stroll filled with chatter before stopping for breakfast at Kerbs Boathouse. They sit outside while watching the late morning sun cast reflections down onto the waters surface.

 

For something unplanned and a little unconventional, it seems so natural and perfect. They share a pot of tea and a plate of toast with little pots of butter, marmalade and jam. Their sneakers touch and slide innocently against each others under the wrought-iron table.

 

For as much as they’ve talked and laughed and asked and answered, there still seems to be so much of them selves to share with the other.

 

Blaine has all the time in the world to give.

 

Afterwards, they walk towards the south end of the park where Kurt says he’ll regrettably have to take his exit, and come across the Naumburg Bandshell.

 

The music and the voices they could hear from a distance suddenly begin to sharpen and tune in.

 

_“When I see your face,_

_There's not a thing that I would change—”_

As they follow the pathway and come into view with the bandstand stage, they notice a small choir gathered around; _small_ being the operative word as the choir is all made up of children.

 

They’re adorable, probably aged from around fine to ten years old, all wrapped up in hats and scarves and mittens. They have huge grins on their faces while they bop to the beat and clap their hands; their choir leader jumping about excitedly in front of them.

 

Their rhythm is incredible with some of their lead singers really hitting the notes perfectly. With age and time and some training these kids could be future super stars. But what’s more wonderful is how together they are, with their harmonies and arrangements, and how happy they are just to be singing and having fun. Enjoying the music and spreading the joy equally.  

 

Kurt coo’s and slows to a stand, slotting in and dancing with the small gathering of moms, dads, families and passers by. He looks thrilled to have found this precious event, and Blaine’s eyes soften just at the sight of Kurt watching, listening to and encouraging these kids, not a care in the world at this moment.

 

_“Cause you're amazing,_

_Just the way you are.”_

 

Blaine moves to stand with him, nudging in close to get a good view. He “aww’s” and gives a whistle and a hand clap of encouragement, swaying and bopping with the kids, and with Kurt.

 

Kurt looks back at Blaine and his eyes light up his whole face as he beams and giggles at him. Blaine freezes, caught up in his stare, with just the sounds of music and lyrics humming through him like a heartbeat.

_“And when you smile._

_The whole world stops and stares for a while,_

_Cause, you're amazing,_

_Just the way you are._

_Yeah.”_

Kurt laughs freely, dances with no inhibitions, outside under the morning winter sun, dressed in some sweats. He bumps hips with Blaine and even ends up pulling in some of the other audience members with looks of amusement.

 

Blaine can’t remember a time when he felt so carefree and relaxed. No schedules, nor time frames or limits or rules. Nobody to tell him what’s right and what’s wrong and what should be done.

 

Music has always been his way out of that, his escape ladder. But now here is enjoying the pleasures of music with somebody he can see himself growing quite fond of.

 

Something he didn’t think would ever happen. It’s perfect and he wants to keep it. All of it, all that it entails and all that comes with it.

 

He wants to keep, _Kurt_.

 

_“Oh you know, you know, you know_

_I'd never ask you to change,_

_If perfect's what you're searching for_

_Then just stay the same—”_


	8. Day 8. Everything has changed.

**Day 8. Monday**

**Song- Everything has changed by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran**

Mondays at the studio are always long and fast paced, hectic and slightly on the wrong side of annoying. There are many missed calls and emails from their _one and only_ day of rest, enquiries and newcomers and agents and…everybody!

 

Sometimes Blaine isn’t the best of morning people. Especially _Monday_ morning people. That all seemed to change however last week when he became acquainted with one Kurt Hummel.

 

He’s a little sad that Kurt won’t be coming in to the studio this week, but it still hasn’t changed his newly acquired uplifted mood. He honestly can’t see this new love for life he has changing or going away anytime soon. Colours are brighter, sounds are nicer, everything he touches is softer. It’s an incredibly strange but rousing feeling. 

 

Blaine knows that it won’t be the last time he sees Kurt again, whether it be in the studio or elsewhere; not if he can help it.

 

Guy bugs Blaine for most of the day by asking questions, taunting him with batting eyelashes, teasing romantic notions and annoying shoulder pokes. But Blaine just laughs it off, something he’s never really been capable of before.

 

He’s less serious these days, and it shows inside and out. Blaine happily goes about his day in a bliss-like state. Taunts or not, he gets the job done.

 

They have an official meeting with Georgia’s team this afternoon to finalize the album details and sign everything off correctly. Guy is playing the valentines record in the control room as part of routine, just to make sure that there’s no little mishaps that they’ve missed out before it’s listened to.

 

While that’s happening, Blaine is actually taking a rare ten minutes out before the meeting and is sitting in his office next door. The walls are a little thin and when a particular song comes on, Guy decides to crank up the volume.

 

Blaine grins knowingly.

 

_“All I knew this morning when I woke,_

_Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before.”_

 

The song playing, currently vibrating through the walls, is probably Blaine’s most favorite that he’s produced on the album; favorite _Kurt_ song on the album, that is. He hasn’t been able to deny it whenever Guy catches and then cajoles him whenever the song is playing and Blaine is dreamingly gazing off into thin air.

 

_“And all I've seen since eighteen hours ago_

_Is green eyes and freckles and your smile_

_In the back of my mind making me feel like—”_

Those eyes; _Kurt’s_ eyes, flash into Blaine’s mind like a vivid beam of light. Blaine loves how they can change color from an emerald green to a sky blue to an iridescent mixture of both, depending on how Kurt’s feeling. 

 

The song is actually a duet, a rather well known and not too old one. And although Georgia hasn’t specified that Kurt will be credited for his contribution to this track, as a supporting vocalist rather than back up; Blaine thinks that Kurt’s addition is incredible. His voice really gels well with Georgia’s, though the beginning of the song is soft and gentle, with Kurt’s range it builds into something powerful, raging with sentiment and feeling.

 

Blaine has already made both a mental and a scribbled note to mention to the team this afternoon that they should reconsider how they credit Kurt, not just for his work on this track but for the whole album. It somehow wouldn’t have been complete without him. 

 

_“I just wanna know you better know you better know you better now—”_

 

As the song continues, Blaine leans back into his chair, arms folded over his chest and closes his eyes.

 

_“Cause all I know is we said "Hello",_

_And your eyes look like coming home._

_All I know is a simple name,_

_Everything has changed._

_All I know is you held the door,_

_You'll be mine and I'll be yours._

_All I know since yesterday is everything has changed.”_

 

This is the part about music that really gets Blaine. The way how just sitting silently with his vision blank but his hearing open can transform his thoughts, can take him to a completely other place. Another realm, another world, another life.

 

He may not be able to _see_ Kurt, right here and now but he can hear him. Blaine sees Kurt in his mind as his voice sings to him and the memories resurface and build. The words push into Blaine’s body and soul and pull back out in physical form.

 

_“And all my walls stood tall painted blue,_

_And I'll take them down, take them down and open up the door for you._

_And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies,_

_The beautiful kind, making up for lost time,_

_Taking flight, making me feel like—”_

Blaine begins to hum quietly, before breathing the words aloud like a precious whisper; singing along with Kurt, feeling the words as they leave him.

 

Slowly, he opens his eyes and leans in towards his desk to locate his phone. There’s something he needs to do, something he needs to say. Not just with music, not this time.

 

_“Come back and tell me why,_

_I'm feeling like I've missed you all this time, oh, oh, oh._

_And meet me there tonight,_

_And let me know that it's not all in my mind.”_

 

He pushes forward, an arm extended, his palm open, fingers flexing—

 

He startles when his phone skitters across the wooden tabletop towards him, the screen highlighted with an incoming call with a harsh buzz from the vibration.

 

When he leans in further, scoops up his phone and his eyes focus on the name lighting up the screen, Blaine grins big and proud. He leans back into his chair, his phone preciously cradled in his hand; lets the music and the words and Kurt’s voice take him back to _that_ place, and presses accept call. His voice, when he speaks, is warm and soft, loyal and knowing.

 

_“All I know is we said "Hello",_

_So dust off your highest hopes._

_All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed._

_All I know is the new found grace,_

_All my days I know your face,_

_All I know since yesterday is everything has changed.”_

 

“Hi, Kurt. I-I missed you today.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I think it’s safe to say that I’ve been very lucky with the song prompt today, it managed to fit in rather nicely with this pre-written chapter : ) 
> 
> P.S thanks everybody for all the love so far; it’s been amazing to hear your thoughts.


	9. Day 9. Can't help falling in love.

**Day 9. Tuesday.**

**Song- Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis**

“I can’t thank you enough for coming with me today.” Kurt says, looking at Blaine as they make their way down the sidewalk. It’s busy out and if they have to bump sides and brush shoulders while other busy, ignorant New Yorker’s rush passed them, well that’s really just too bad. Blaine has had to put up with much worse. “I owe you big time. I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything too important?”

 

_What could be more important than spending time with you, Kurt?_

Blaine has invested many, many years of his life, both personal and professional into his work. It’s time for him to take a step back and take a little something from life just for himself.

 

After yesterday’s phone conversation with Kurt, Blaine had arranged with Guy to take this morning off work. They don’t have anything too important booked in that needs Blaine’s immediate presence; he’ll have his cell phone on him if Guy runs into any trouble. He may not answer the call, but that’s neither here nor there.

 

Now, he and Kurt are heading in the direction of Brookdale, Battery Park; where Kurt had confessed he spends his Tuesday mornings, voluntarily directing the senior resident’s glee club.

 

“Kurt,” Blaine says with a smile and rests a hand on the small of Kurt’s back, something he’s not so scared to do now. “It’s fine. I want to come with you, really. It’s so cool that you do this, I want to see it. I want to help.” He wants to do everything that he can with Kurt, but Kurt doesn’t have to know that. Not yet.

 

Kurt had explained that he usually runs the club with a friend who had at last minute been called out of town. Kurt hadn’t known who else to call and hadn’t wanted to let the elderly residents of Brookdale down. Blaine was only too happy to run to Kurt’s aid, like a night in shining armour, he hopes.  

 

“They love singing. And they’re quite good. They’re a hoot.” Kurt beams, with a hint of pride both etched into his tone of voice and shining in his eyes.

 

When they arrive they sign in at the front desk and are given visitor passes to hang around their necks. The center is grand and beautiful with classic, old furnishings and decorated with bright colors and patterns.

 

Kurt leads Blaine into the community room where a semi circle of chairs are gathered around a black, baby grand piano. Some of the chairs are already filled by residents ready and waiting. An old lady with suspiciously jet black, shiny hair, waves at Kurt happily; and a man with a walking stick makes his way over to shake Kurt’s hand and look at Blaine questionably.

 

“Ooh, you brought a new friend.” Another lady says wearing a bright lilac sun dress with white lace up sneakers. She grins and wriggles her fingers in Blaine’s direction and Kurt barely contains his giggle when Blaine waves back quickly, ducking his gaze, blushes and sits down at the piano bench.

 

Kurt takes a clear, plastic wallet out of his satchel, opens it and takes out some sheet music, handing a piece to Blaine before asking everybody to come and collect a copy for themselves.

 

“Ok, hey you guys. How are we doing? Everybody ready to sing good and loud today? We’re almost ready for America’s Got Talent, don’t you think?” Kurt emphasizes with a wink and is rewarded with a round of laughter, including Blaine.

 

“They wish.” A man with pale, slightly liver spotted skin and long white hair covered by a cap shouts out.

 

“You may have noticed that there is somebody new here today. This is Blaine, my, um…friend. We-we’ve worked together.” Kurt clears his throat and Blaine stares down at the keys of the piano, biting his lip. His cheeks fill with heat and his eyes glaze over. He feels like a high school kid being quizzed about his crush.

 

But he’s never felt happier.

 

“He’s very kindly offered to play piano for us as Brady can’t make it. So let’s be kind and thankful to him, and show him what we’ve got. We’re going to start off with the song we ended on last week. You guys remember it?”

 

There are a few hoots and hollers as people stand from their seats and shuffle about to get comfortable. Kurt starts them off with some gentle warm ups and vocal exercises as Blaine straightens up his sheet music on the stand.

 

Blaine is _loving_ it. And even though they’re in a retirement home with people more than half his age, there is an undeniable feeling of unbridled youth filling the air. It’s rather freeing, somehow.    

 

Blaine wriggles his fingers and readies his hands, and just as Kurt looks back at him over his shoulder, offering a thumbs up signalling that they’re ready; Blaine actually focuses on the music notation and the words in front of him.

 

Realization hits him like a freight train.

 

His fingers start moving on auto pilot, slowly caressing the keys as if he were holding a newborn baby, too frightened to make any sudden movements.

 

_“Wise men say,_

_Only fools rush in._

_But I can't help falling in love with you.”_

Blaine swallows hard. Kurt is singing with the seniors to start them off, and it’s almost too much for Blaine to listen to. He glares down at his hands, too afraid to look at Kurt for fear of what he might do.

 

_“Shall I stay,_

_Would it be a sin,_

_If I can't help falling in love with you.”_

Kurt stops singing and steps back towards the piano, Blaine shifts on the bench, his heart beating in perfect time and rhythm with the melody.

 

Kurt points to a lady with shoulder length, grey fluffy hair, who has been sitting in an arm chair in the far corner. She stands and shuffles forward and when she starts to sing Blaine feels the threatening sting of tears prickle at the corner of his eyes.

 

Her voice is lovely, and she sings like she’s telling a story; a story of Blaine’s heart.

 

_“Like a river flows_

_Surely to the sea._

_Darling so it goes,_

_Some things are meant to be._

_Take my hand,_

_Take my whole life too._

_For I can't help falling in love with you.”_

It’s like she’s singing some sort of request or permission, straight into Blaine’s soul. Permission on behalf of _somebody else._

This is what music does to him. It makes him believe that the words and the sounds are coming from another place, from another person. It makes him believe that there is a whole other rhyme and reason behind the song, a story untold. Waiting to happen.

 

Blaine tries to keep his head down and his eyes on what his hands are doing. But when he chances a glance up, he finds Kurt turned around watching him, with a fond, just as raw expression on his face.

 

Everybody joins back in for the last part, all except for Kurt. Blaine’s hands fly over the keys; though he’s not really concentrating on playing anymore, but it doesn’t make a difference. He could play the piano in his sleep. 

 

Kurt bites his lip as the song draws to a close and the lady with the lovely voice from before repeats the last line, slow and soft. He turns his body back towards his ‘club’ but his eyes somehow never leave Blaine’s, he’s entirely caught.

 

_“For I can't help falling in love with you.”_

 

Blaine finishes with a beautiful flourish and as the seniors cheer and clap and take their seats, some complaining about their hip and knee replacements; Kurt continues to stare at Blaine and vice versa.

 

A silent message is passed between them; one of truth and reverence and devout worship.

 

_“For I can't help falling in love with you.”_


	10. Day 10. Thinking out loud.

**Day 10. Wednesday.**

**Song- Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran**

_“When your legs don't work like they used to before,_

_And I can't sweep you off of your feet—”_

The café they’re in is quaint and quiet, with just enough background noise coming from the radio on the glass counter top where the cash register is. It’s a French-bistro type of place that Kurt had recommended and invited Blaine too after the senior glee club yesterday.

 

Kurt’s busy talking to him, laughing about something one of the seniors said after Blaine had left, but once again he’s overcome by the music reaching his ears. Too wrapped up in the lyrics of such a beautiful sentimental song.

_“Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?_

_Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?”_

He can’t speak on behalf of Kurt just yet, but Blaine’s own lips definitely do remember the taste of Kurt. The way his lips felt against the slight stubble of Blaine’s cheek after their dinner date.

 

And then the way Kurt’s lips had _actually_ felt against Blaine’s own when they parted ways yesterday (and the seniors were out of shot.) It was short and chaste but it was enough. It was new and exciting, terribly frightening, a life changing promise. 

 

_“And, darling, I will be loving you 'til we're 70_

_And, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at 23_

_And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways_

_Maybe just the touch of a hand_

_Well, me—I fall in love with you every single day_

_And I just wanna tell you I am.”_

Blaine doesn’t quite know when they transitioned from a not quite date to an easy, comfortable arrangement at any spare moment they can get together. But he likes it. _More than_ likes it.

 

Blaine doesn’t know when he himself transitioned from having such terrifying thoughts of love and lust and wonderment to full blown _thinking out loud,_ and doing so happily.

_“So, honey, now_

_Take me into your loving arms_

_Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_

_Place your head on my beating heart_

_I'm thinking out loud_

_Maybe we found love right where we are.”_

He finds himself thinking about the future. A future that he used to only assume he would spend alone.

_“When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades_

_And the crowds don't remember my name_

_When my hands don't play the strings the same way,_

_I know you will still love me the same.”_

 

Blaine’s heart aches.

 

His dad was a musician, and his mom a stay at home house wife. Her husband had spent a lot of time away from home working and touring. Their marriage was young and family even younger.  Blaine can’t even remember much of his father from his childhood. When his had finally career slowed to a standstill and he returned home, he didn’t have a loving a wife to greet him and love him still, no matter what. He had lost what he had because his love for music had proved to be greater, more important. His mother was kind and loving. But she had a heart, a heart that needed loved.

 

Blaine had thought, had _worried,_ that he was destined for the same future as his father. His heart, only beating for music and nobody else. In a way he thought that that would be the best way to protect his heart; to not fall in love.

 

_“Cause, honey, your soul could never grow old, it's evergreen_

_And, baby, your smile's forever in my mind and memory_

_I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways_

_Maybe it's all part of a plan_

_Well, I'll just keep on making the same mistakes_

_Hoping that you'll understand”_

Kurt giggles at something, and looks up at Blaine with shining, adoring eyes. Blaine maybe jumping the gun, maybe he’s putting himself and his heart out there on the line and it could all go wrong. But maybe it won’t. Maybe it could be _so right._

 

Maybe Kurt can prove that Blaine won’t end up like his father. That the love of music and the love of another person can coexist; can cohabitate in one heart.

 

However, Kurt already _is_ proving that. Even here and now, with only a few measly meet ups and a too short kiss to show for it. Kurt is proving that _that_ is enough. 

 

_“That, baby, now_

_Take me into your loving arms_

_Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_

_Place your head on my beating heart_

_Thinking out loud_

_Maybe we found love right where we are.”_


	11. Day 11. Chances Are

**Day 11. Thursday.**

**Song- Chances Are by Johnny Mathis**

“What time are you expected at the studio tomorrow? Will Guy be upset if I hold you hostage for a little while?” Kurt asks as he rounds the corner from his kitchen to the living room where Blaine is curled up in one corner of the couch.

 

Kurt had invited him over after work for dinner; and after the dishes had been cleaned up, they’d moved to the couch for some extra…comfort.

 

Blaine is looking up at him, grinning ridiculously like the cat that got the cream as he accepts the mug of cocoa that Kurt hands him. The TV set is switched on and an old rom-com is playing, just for background noise.

 

It’s at that point in the movie when the two main characters are just realizing that they have somehow slipped from friendship into something so much more. A song is of course helping to build the moment with words of love and such. 

_“Chances are, 'cause I wear that silly grin_

_the moment you come into view;_

_chances are you think that I'm in love with you.”_

“Don’t you worry about Guy, I can handle him.” Blaine teases, grinning insanely because Kurt _wants_ to keep him all too himself. And not just for work or professional purposes.

Kurt blushes a little, offers a grin of his own and makes himself comfortable, tucked up close against the side of Blaine’s body. “Oh well then, I must bare that in mind.”

 

“Please do.”

_“Just because my composure sort-of slips_

_the moment that your lips meet mine,_

_chances are you think my heart's your Valentine.”_

They each take a sip from their mugs. “In all seriousness though, you’ll have to work tomorrow right? I don’t actually have any work scheduled tomorrow, so I’ll just be sitting here…twiddling my thumbs—”

 

“Ooh, sounds intriguing.” They laugh again and when Kurt leans over to the coffee table to put down his mug, Blaine follows him. “Honestly? Yes, I do have something booked in the morning that I can’t get out of, it’ll take most of the afternoon, but I’ll be free afterwards.”

 

Kurt smiles at that and bumps their knees together.

 

“Why has somebody like you not got any plans on a Friday night anyway?” Blaine asks, genuinely curious.

 

Kurt shrugs demurely, “I don’t know. I guess, I just don’t like to socialize much outside of work…unless it’s- you know with somebody I care about- and want to socialize with.” His cheeks darken and he averts his gaze but Blaine can’t stop staring and smiling at him.

 

“You know you could- you could come to studio with me if you wanted to? It probably would be handy to have another pair of hands around. I could pay you—”

 

“Oh my god, you’re not paying me for anything, Blaine. I’ll come and help out sure, but I’m not taking any money off you.” Kurt looks and sounds a little scandalized.

 

Blaine on the other hand looks a little hurt, and sounds just as much. “You don’t-you wouldn’t want to work with me?”

 

“ _With_ you? That’s different to working _for_ you, right?”

 

Blaine finds his smile once more and nods. “I’d _love_ to work with you in my studio, Kurt.”

 

“Why?” Kurt whispers. “Why do you want me to work with you? Of all people. What could I do? You know that you could have any artist you wanted—”

 

“Kurt.” Blaine’s hand on Kurt’s knee quiets him. “You’re amazing. Please don’t belittle yourself. I think- it think it’s safe to say that I already want to be with you all of the time anyway, so why not incorporate that into my work space. It’s how we _met,_ after all. Anybody in my position would be honored to work with a talent like yours. You’re so unique, so special. You shouldn’t be left hanging with nothing to do.”

 

Kurt looks like he’s finding it a little difficult to breathe; and so Blaine bravely and boldly helps him out by pressing his lips to Kurt like a lifeline, his very own personal source of oxygen. 

 

“What do you say?” Blaine breathes when he pulls back.

 

“You’d want that? Me to do that for you?”

 

“ _With_ me, yes. Always.”    

_“Guess you feel you'll always be_

_the one and only one for me_

_and if you think you could,_

_well, chances are your chances are awfully good!”_


	12. Day 12. I don't want to miss a thing.

**Day 12. Friday.**

**Song- I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing by Aerosmith**

Armageddon has always been and will hopefully remain Blaine’s favorite _secret_ movie. Anybody who knows him well would guess that he’s more of a musical genre, or a period drama type of guy, and they would be right.

 

But deep down he harbours a love for this movie, mostly because underneath the action-space-saving everything façade; there is a romance there. A deeply beautiful story line. And the sound track is awesome too.

 

So here Blaine sits on his Friday night after work, stretched out on his sofa in his sweats, a beer bottle chilling in the fridge and tai takeout on it’s way; while he immerses himself in to the film.

 

His phone is tucked just under his body, almost slipping down the side of the couch. He normally switches it off this time of night, not wanting to be disturbed, but right now it’s kind of like he’s wanting to; h _oping_ to, but not by just _anybody_ of course.

_“I could stay awake just to hear you breathing_

_Watch you smile while you are sleeping._

_While you're far away and dreaming.”_

He and Kurt haven’t spent the night together yet. Of course there’s no reason why they should have at this stage, but there’s also no reason why they _shouldn’t_ have either.

 

It’s been almost only two weeks since they met, shorter than that when anything romantic or intimate (if he can dare call it that) started to happen between them. Blaine won’t, _can’t_ lie to himself, he wants to have Kurt in his bed, all curled up beside him soft and warm. They don’t even have to do anything but sleep or lie awake and smiling in each other’s arms and Blaine would be blissfully happy.

 

_“I could spend my life in this sweet surrender,_

_I could stay lost in this moment forever._

_Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure.”_

Blaine curses Aerosmith and his musical genius just as the buzzer for the door goes off, announcing that Blaine’s dinner has arrived. He hits pause on the remote and leaps up off of the couch.

 

In a way he’s kind of happy that he’s been saved from sliding too deep into his personal thoughts, for now.

 

Later on, the movie has just ended and Blaine’s leftovers have been packed into the refrigerator. Blaine lays full length on his back on the couch, his head resting against the arm of the chair while he balances a half empty beer bottle on his chest.

 

The credits are rolling and Aerosmith is haunting Blaine again with his words, and playing with his thoughts.

 

 He’s feeling tired, but a good kind of tired. Where his eyes feel lax and body heavy, ready to succumb to a perfect nights slumber. Only—

 

_“Don't wanna close my eyes,_

_I don't wanna fall asleep_

_'Cause I'd miss you, baby_

_And I don't wanna miss a thing.”_

He’s too busy thinking, day dreaming, wondering, to fall asleep. Blaine can’t help but mouth the words along with the music.  

_“Cause even when I dream of you_

_The sweetest dream would never do,_

_I'd still miss you, baby,_

_And I don't wanna miss a thing.”_

Blaine has dreamed of Kurt, more than once. He’s dreamt of what kind of future they could, _might_ have together. Where they would live? Would they get a pet? Would they fight over space at the bathroom sink and then make up with sleepy but wonderfully adoring sex in the middle of their king-sized bed?

_“Lying close to you feeling your heart beating_

_And I'm wondering what you're dreaming,_

_Wondering if it's me you're seeing_

_Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together_

_And I just wanna stay with you_

_In this moment forever, forever and ever.”_

Blaine feels his shorts tighten just at the thought of lying next to Kurt, asleep or not. Even just _being_ close to him in that proximity and intimate environment, clothes strewn, skin glistening. The possibilities and hopes, his deepest desires filter though him all at once.

_“I just wanna hold you close,_

_I feel your heart so close to mine,_

_And just stay here in this moment_

_For all the rest of time, yeah, yeah, yeah!”_

Blaine sits up suddenly before his body can embarrass him anymore. He presses his beer bottle to his cheeks hoping to help cool him down a little.

 

He has a thought, something that he’s hopelessly optimistic about, and without even a chance to reconsider he comes to a decision.

 

He reaches for his phone and with slightly shaking hands but a heart full of both faith and a little despair, and a belly fully of desire; he sends a text message to Kurt.

 

He would like Kurt to come over tomorrow night for dinner, a movie, maybe some drinks and dessert; and _hopefully,_ so much more.

 

Maybe until morning. 

 

_“Cause even when I dream of you_

_The sweetest dream would never do_

_and I'd still miss you, baby_

_And I don't wanna miss a thing._

_“Don't wanna close my eyes_

_I don't wanna fall asleep, yeah_

_I don't wanna miss a thing_

_I don't wanna miss a thing!”_


	13. Day 13. Can you feel the love tonight.

**Day 13**

**Song- Can You Feel The Love Tonight by Elton John**

“It’s Georgia’s album release tomorrow, right?” Kurt asks as Blaine comes back from the kitchen after clearing up the dishes.

 

The dining room is dim but soft and lovely, lit only by candlelight placed in little jars all around the room, and the table had been set perfectly with a single red rose in a glass cylinder as the center piece.

 

Blaine is rather proud of the dinner he had made for them, it seemed to go down pretty well, including the strawberries and ice cream with a chocolate swirl for dessert. The bottle of red Chianti which is now almost empty has left a slight rose complexion on both of their cheeks; and a gorgeous dark shade of purple coating Kurt’s bottom lip just so.

 

Kurt is sitting relaxed and happy leaning back in his chair, twirling the stem of his wine glass in his fingers. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray slacks and a superbly fitted black button down shirt which clings to his flat stomach and broad chest; the sleeves of the shirt are rolled up to his elbows and curve around his biceps.

 

Blaine is finding it insanely difficult not to stare at any part of him. In particular he wants to take Kurt’s lip between his own and suck the remnants of the wine and color away.

 

He composes himself as he takes his seat at the table opposite Kurt. The table is square shaped but small enough so that there is a cosy distance between them; perfect for feet to touch and hands to brush.

 

He refills both of their glasses with the last of the wine and lifts  his glass in the air tilted towards Kurt. Without thought or hesitation Kurt chinks his glass to Blaine’s and takes a sip, grinning.

 

“What are we toasting to this time?” He asks, his eyes shining like speckled orbs next to the tiny flickering flames of the candlelight.

 

Blaine smiles and shrugs. He actually doesn’t know. He’s just toasting to Kurt. To _them,_ to now and hopefully always and forever.

 

“In answer to your question, though- yes it is the album release date tomorrow. I have to say the finalized product sounds amazing, and the cover’s cute too. She may have a sell out and chart topper on her hands.”

 

Kurt smiles and hums in response, he takes a sip from his glass and slightly averts his gaze, not quite looking at Blaine. “She- she um, contacted me. Thanked me for all of my work and contribution. Actually gave me a pay rise and asked if I would consider touring around the country with her as her back up. She mentioned maybe a duet or something too. It’s- well it’s pretty huge.”

 

When Kurt finishes with a rush of air he looks back up at Blaine to find him beaming at him, his amber eyes smoldering like embers.

 

“You knew?” Kurt says, rather than asks. His tone isn’t accusatory, it’s light and soft and reverent, like he can’t quite believe the lengths that Blaine would go to for him.

 

Blaine continues to smile broadly. Of course he knew. His conversation with Georgia and her team is what kick started it all. His emphasis on Kurt’s voice in the recording room and on the album is what made Georgia realize that she was working with a genuine talent and not just somebody to stand in the shadows.

 

“I’m so happy for you, Kurt.” Is what Blaine says instead, “it’s about time that you got something you deserve and are finally receiving the right kind of recognition for it.”

 

There is music still flowing from the speakers on the wall, speakers that are fixed all around Blaine’s house; hooked up to his home studio just down the hall. Blaine had given Kurt a tour of the place before dinner and had let him pick some music to play throughout the house to accompany their evening.

 

Kurt had bravely opted for a valentine’s playlist (being the day before Valentines,) but as the current song ends and the next one begins, he’s kind of starting to wish he went for something less…obvious.

 

_“There's a calm surrender to the rush of day,_

_When the heat of a rolling wind can be turned away._

_An enchanted moment, and it sees me through_

_It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you_

 

Kurt would blush at both the song lyrics and Blaine’s honest and a little overwhelming words, but it’s a little past that stage now, plus the wine and the ever so intimate ambience around them seems to have that covered.

 

Kurt empties his glass with one last drink and stands from his chair. “Should- could we maybe move somewhere more- um comfortable?”

 

Blaine doesn’t even finish his drink; he’s up and out of his chair and following Kurt into his lounge as quick as Kurt had suggested it.

 

As they enter the living area the music seems to vibrate through the speakers, not because it’s too loud but because the lyrics are being sung with feeling, tingling through their skin like a pulse.

 

When Kurt gets to the couch he stops and turns slightly, maybe waiting for Blaine to indicate where to sit—

 

Blaine is on him the second that Kurt’s shoulders begin to turn in his direction. He presses their lips together warm, wet and firm, takes hold of Kurt’s arms and softly guides him down onto the couch.

 

A few brushes of lips, a teasing stroke of a tongue and Blaine pulls back suddenly, panting, gasping. “Oh my god- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

 

Kurt pulls him back down so that they’re now lying chest to chest, effectively shushing Blaine with a more heated and fevered kiss than every before. It’s an answer to an unspoken question. It’s need and it’s want and it’s now, _now!_

Hands are starting to wander, searching uncharted but not forbidden territory. Blaine holds Kurt’s head so tenderly in his hands and kisses his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, _everywhere_ he’s not been able to before.

 

He begins to trail down lower towards Kurt’s throat and out to his collarbone where one hand is diligently trying to tug Kurt’s shirt out of the way. Kurt’s back arches and he pushes up, his hips pressing firmly into Blaine’s when Blaine’s sucks on a spot of skin between his neck and shoulder.

 

Blaine _feels_ Kurt. Feels how ready and wanting he is. And he’s pretty sure that Kurt can feel the same.

 

“Kurt,” Blaine whispers into his skin, not wanting to pull back and lose too much contact with Kurt’s body. “Kurt, come- come to bed with me, please. I want you so much.”

 

Kurt moans and his arms come around Blaine’s back. His hands grope Blaine’s ass before digging under the waistline of his jeans and brushes his thumbs along the dimples at the small of Blaine’s back under his shirt, clinging to his hot skin.

 

“Kurt, _bed._ ” Blaine whines, _pleads._ He moves back up to Kurt lips and kisses him soundly.

 

Kurt kisses him back just as hard but shakes his head.

 

“You-you don’t want—”

 

“Here.” Kurt affirms, his hands coasting the length of Blaine’s back under his shirt, his fingertips dragging teasingly lower each time. “I want you here. Don’t want to lose this moment.” Kurt breathes, his hips pushing up once again.

 

Blaine smiles into the next kiss and tilts his head to the side. “Won’t it be more romantic in the bedroom?” He asks a little shyly.

 

Kurt smiles back up at him, taps a finger to Blaine’s nose and then to his chest, trails it down his sternum to his stomach and then back up again; finally resting a flat palm over Blaine’s thumping heart.

 

“What could be more romantic than this?” Says Kurt. “It’s not _where_ you are that makes a moment romantic. It’s _who_ you’re with, and why.” He adds, batting his eyelashes when Blaine blinks down at him.

 

_“And can you feel the love tonight?_

_It is where we are,_

_It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer,_

_That we got this far.”_

 

And with candlelight in the background and music in the air, Blaine leans down and kisses Kurt’s heart over his shirt as his fingers delicately work the buttons of Kurt’s shirt open.

 

_“And can you feel the love tonight?_

_How it's laid to rest,_

_It's enough to make kings and vagabonds_

_Believe the very best—”_

There are words in Blaine’s head and on his tongue, beating and waiting in time with his heart. He’ll say them, no matter how soon it may seem, he will say them. But not yet. Those words need a moment all of their own.

_It's enough to make kings and vagabonds_

_Believe the very best.”_


	14. Day 14. Everything

_“You're a falling star, you're the get away car._

_You're the line in the sand when I go too far._

_You're the swimming pool, on an August day._

_And you're the perfect thing to say.”_

“Good choice for the last track of the album, I’d say. It’s upbeat, happy, positive… romantic.” Kurt says, smiling before he takes another sip from his coffee mug.

 

Behind him, propped up against the pillows and the headboard, Blaine carefully tightens his hold around Kurt’s stomach and drops feather light kisses to the back of his neck and shoulders.

 

“Hmm.” Blaine assents into Kurt’s skin before leaning back to take a drink from his own coffee from the night stand.

 

Kurt leans back fully against Blaine’s chest, his head resting on the curve of Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine kisses Kurt’s hair; he could care less about bed hair. His finger tracks are in Kurt’s hair, making it stick up this way and that, and he _loves_ it.

 

They’ve been in this position ever since waking up together in Blaine’s bed in the most glorious of ways, and then Blaine had gotten up to make coffee; and when he returned Kurt had crawled between his legs and tucked himself comfortably under the blankets.

 

They haven’t really said or spoken to each other a great deal this morning. Not in words. They haven’t had to. Lingering glances, soft touches of seeking fingers and searching, scorching kisses have been enough.

 

Opposite Blaine’s bed, a ceiling to floor length mirror is pinned to the wall, and when one of them looks up and over to their reflection, they see the other staring and smiling, blushing back at them.  

 

_“And you play it coy but it's kinda cute._

_Ah, when you smile at me you know exactly what you do._

_Baby don't pretend that you don't know it's true._

_'cause you can see it when I look at you.”_

When Blaine had been in the kitchen he’d switched on the throughout-house speakers and in celebration of the album release date (and the specific day that it is) he’d selected Georgia (and Kurt’s) Valentines record to play.

 

The music plays quietly through the speakers on the far wall of Blaine’s bedroom, accompanying their lazy morning in bed.

 

_“And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times_

_It's you, it's you, you make me sing._

_You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.”_

Kurt sings along quietly with his own voice on the track. Blaine’s strokes his fingers softly against Kurt’s bare ribcage under the covers.

 

“You sound lovely on this song,” he murmurs. “You sound amazing on every song, of course. But this one, your voice just pops, slides in nicely alongside Georgia’s. It’s like you’re really making the listener feel and believe what you’re singing. What you’re trying to say.”

_“You're a carousel, you're a wishing well,_

_And you light me up, when you ring my bell._

_You're a mystery, you're from outer space,_

_You're every minute of my everyday.”_

Kurt leans over and places his coffee mug down on the nightstand next to Blaine’s. Slowly he twists so that he’s facing Blaine, his body resting intimately against Blaine’s knees and thighs and stomach.

 

“I think- I mean I- um…I mean them.” Kurt says quietly, almost whispers. Blaine’s breath catches as he listens. “This was the last song we worked on, and I- well I _felt_ those words. I _lived_ them. I’ve never had so much fun working than what I did when I was with you. I’ve never missed a job so much than when our recording sessions had to end.”

 

Blaine doesn’t give himself much time to think or to process, _anything_. He takes Kurt’s face in his hands, like he’s holding something so precious, _he is,_ and kisses him so simply and softly.

 

_“And I can't believe, uh that I'm your man,_

_And I get to kiss you baby just because I can._

_Whatever comes our way, ah we'll see it through,_

_And you know that's what our love can do.”_

“Me too.” Blaine breathes, he opens his eyes and breaks the kiss just enough to look into Kurt’s eyes. To watch his expression, to see his lips as well as feel them, to hear his words and feel his heart beat.

 

He clears his throat, heart thumping against his ribcage like a rabbit’s. “How- um how many days do _you_ think it takes to fall in love?”

 

Kurt’s face fills with color so prettily, his eyes widen but his smile is so calm, open and happy. “You’re really hung up on that title aren’t you?” Kurt teases. “Get over it, it’s out there now for the general public to listen to and catch copious amounts of nausea. It’s out of your hands.” Kurt winks playfully at him.

 

Only- it’s not out of Blaine’s hands. Not at all.

 

Blaine’s lips tug up into a small bashful smile but his eyes are shining with earnest. “No really,” he whispers, his hands dropping to hold Kurt so tenderly around his waist. “I mean it. Do- do you think it’s possible to fall in love in so many days?”

 

There’s only one beat of silence before Kurt breathes, “um, four-fourteen- fourteen days… maybe? You?”

 

Blaine’s eyes slipped closed, a contented smile creeping up on his face. He lowers his head and places a long, lingering kiss to Kurt’s forehead.

 

“One. I- I think it was and will only ever be one for me.”

 

_“You're every song, and I sing along._

_'Cause you're my everything.”_

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. I hope you were all satisfied with the ending. Believe me; I’m just as sad for it to end as you guys are. Maybe we can revisit sometime ;) I couldn’t have done it without your words of encouragement so thank you all so, very much. And of course a big thank you to the mods of the Tumblr Klaine valentines challenge 2016 for setting it all up with such wonderful songs and for asking me to participate.


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